


Cleansing

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-06
Updated: 2005-09-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7094950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Giles helps Wesley to heal.  This is a continuation of a lovely drabble series of bethynyc's:  <a href="http://wesleyfanfiction.net/archive/viewstory.php?sid=1155">Damaged, Acceptance, Helping, and Healing</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cleansing

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

From the last chapter...  
 _"I can’t ask...for help." Gravelly and low, the whisper floated from the man before him to Giles’ ears._

_Giles took Wesley’s hand and guided him into the bed next to him. "You don’t have to."  
_

* * *

Wesley eased himself onto the bed. Panicky thoughts of dream states and sleep walking and finding himself facing an outraged Giles when he awoke raced through his brain. Lying stiffly at the edge of the bed, Wesley flinched when Giles laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Relax, Wesley. It's alright; you're safe here."

Wesley did as he was told, barely. The warmth from Giles' hand lingered even after the hand was pulled away. He looked to make sure it wasn't still there.

He caught sight of Giles, his eyes showing fatigue and concern. Wesley looked at the man next to him, trying to read the thoughts hidden behind his friend's face. _Friend?_ When had that happened? He'd not set eyes on the man since he left Sunnydale in disgrace. But now, he's a friend. Wesley chewed on that thought for a bit. He'd had friends in L.A. Friends that he'd worked beside, fought beside, bled beside. He'd watched those friendships form. He knew how they'd happened. Knew as well how they'd ended.

This man, however, had gone from disdain to kinship with no obvious stops along the way and claimed he would have done what Wes had done given the same circumstances. The very thing that had cost him his friends. Why?

Perhaps...

Wesley reached a hand to touch the face of the man next to him. Giles' eyes fluttered closed at the contact, but opened again – curious and watchful. While fingers slid back into sandy hair, Wes traced his thumb along Giles' cheekbone. Both men were holding their breath, but neither noticed.

Without losing eye contact, Wesley very slowly leaned in towards Giles. He finally closed his eyes as their foreheads touched. With a slight tilt of his head, Wesley gently stroked the side of Giles' nose with his own.

"Please," Wesley whispered. "Please let me." A small sound escaped Giles' lips, and Wes took that as permission. Still moving slowly and with great care, he tilted his head just a little more and brought their lips together. Slowly pressing together, both men sighed at the slight give of lips and the tentative meeting of tongues.

As Wes began to deepen the kiss, he felt a pressure on his chest. It was slight, though, and didn't concern him. When the pressure grew, however, he pulled back. He saw that Giles had his hand on his chest and was pushing at him. "Wesley."

Giles closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, Wesley couldn't read what was there. He didn't have to. He knew how this was going to play out. He also knew that Giles was too kind to reject him quickly. He'd want to draw it out with tender words and phrases. Wes decided to save them both the trouble.

"You don't want me."

Giles closed his eyes and sighed. "Want you? Of course, I do. But this isn't what you need."

Wesley pulled back further. "And how do you know what I need?"

Giles fixed him with a stare. "Because I've needed it too. Damn it, Wesley. If we do this tonight, it won't help." His eyes clouded slightly with a memory. "And you will grow to hate me for it. That, I can promise you."

Wesley took a shuddering breath and rolled onto his back, placing a hand on his chest. "It's as though there's nothing here anymore. Nothing, save a failed kidnapper and successful betrayer."

Giles placed his own hand over Wesley's where it rested on his chest. "You have no idea what's in here. No one does, especially now. I can tell you that there is much in here that is good." Giles removed his hand from Wesley's chest and carefully but firmly gripped a handful of hair at the back of Wesley's head to bring them face to face. "I can also tell you that it will never surface as long as you cling to this misery with which you've filled in the empty spaces. That _must_ come out."

When he said that last, Giles gave Wesley's head a shake, tugging at the hair just enough to cause a twinge of pain. The pain was tolerable – Wes had surely felt worse – but surprising. In retrospect, Wesley thought that it was probably the surprise that brought the first tears to his eyes. As the tears began to fall, Giles drew Wes' head to his shoulder and wrapped strong arms around him, rocking gently.

With Giles holding him, Wesley cried. He cried as though he'd never be able to stop. He cried for lost friendships and for the life he'd built for himself. He cried for another child who would never know his father's love. And if Giles shed a tear or two for his own losses just then, Wesley didn't need to know.


End file.
